


Something Like Hope

by mirqueen



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God had always seemed a figment of wishful thinking to Esme Cullen. The moment Bella entered the Cullens’ lives, a tortured spirit finally began to believe. (Canon Pairings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own or make any profit off of  _Twilight_. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer, Summit Entertainment, etc.

A/N:A brief introduction to a story that I (quite honestly) didn’t know where I was headed with. But something about it stuck with me, so here we are. I doubt this will be anything more than a one-shot, since I quite forgot whatever inspiration I had for it.

> **Something Like Hope  
>  **

God has never seemed to be anything but the spectacular fancy of frightened humans in denial of their own mortality. A good and kindly being created for the ever-dying creatures who feared whatever lay on the other side of the steel curtain of death. Prayers were an invention of the diseased – those who knew death as inevitable yet hoped that some being, somewhere in the universe, was listening enough to answer their prayers with an extended stay here on earth.

When had my prayers ever been answered? Edward, my first and beloved son in this new existence, remained lonely and angry and frustrated for almost a century, no matter how much or how fervently I had prayed. God, were He real, would not be so heartless. And if He is not heartless, then why would He ignore the prayers of a tortured mother? It could only be that God does not exist.

I have not always felt that way. Even the haziness of human memories has not clouded that knowledge. In my untamed youth, God was so very real. He was the benevolent, all-knowing, all-loving, effervescent benefactor of the human race. The being who would surely destroy the earth before allowing my dreams to fall into waste.

But my dreams became lost in a world of unfeeling practicality and emotional rigidity. The hovering hope of romance and affection and love died within me, as did my faith in the almighty. Though my hope in the previous three had been renewed with Carlisle’s venom and heart, my faith in the Almighty had remained obscured in doubt and pain.

A slip of a girl with no particularly exotic talents changed everything. For the first time since 1911, I began to feel something like hope. Hope that God might just be listening after all.

* * *

 


End file.
